Long Madrigal Poems

SELF REFLECTIONS

These are poems about mirrors, images, self-image, reflections, impressions and self-reflection. 

Self Reflection
by Michael R. Burch 

for anyone struggling with self-image

She has a comely form
and a smile that brightens her dorm ...
but she's grossly...

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Radiance
by Michael R. Burch

for Dylan Thomas

The poet delves earth’s detritus—hard toil—
for raw-edged nouns, barbed verbs, vowels’ lush bouquet;
each syllable his pen excretes—dense soil,
dark images impacted, rooted clay.

The poet sees the sea but feels its meaning—
the...

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These are poems about Dylan Thomas, as well as poems "for" and "after" Dylan Thomas. Dylan Thomas was one of my favorite poets from my early teens and has remained so over the years. I...

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Myth, after Dylan Thomas
by Michael R. Burch

Here the recalcitrant wind
sighs with grievance and remorse
over fields of wayward gorse
and thistle-throttled lanes.

And she is the myth of the scythed wheat
hewn and sighing, complete,
waiting, lain in a low...

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~You Need To ~
( Italian Madrigal )



You need to keep the door opened to love
Forgive past hurts, love, reach from above
Measure to His Word, 'cause God is love

You need to keep door just opened to...

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A meadow for Autumn

Forest, I lay me down to rest
upon bed of moss.
 
Eternal sleep immediately overtakes me 
lichen kenning myself 
as Rip Van Winkle 
except being repurposed
as  oldest living species. 

With an estimated...

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War, Is Unholy Hell

War is wicked rot and most holy hell
 man's evil is its murdering spell
Yet mankind never ever truly learns
 love and faith it arrogantly spurns

Poetry by the great Siegfried Sassoon
 glows like...

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 as the fresh morning utilized the Moons net
one last time before she turned in
while her other face puts on make-up
eagerly she waits to kiss...

Sunsprinkled showers of light
that frolic across the
ESH
R O
H L
T D

greeting me...

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Poems about Poets V



Edna St. Vincent Millay Has Her Way with a Vassar Professor
by Michael R. Burch

After a night of hard drinking and spreading her legs,
Millay hits the dorm, where the Vassar don begs:
“Please act...

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There’s a burning yen nomadic deep within entrenched,
to absorb fresh environments ambrosial on foot,
where incidental hue or august colour wash abound,
or that March bloom tantalising shady patch,
with its dreamlike mystic wide-flung allure,
some blue pigment dawn...

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There is an urge within me to wander randomly,
to explore in vivid detail each kaleidoscope,
incidental hue or pristine colour I encounter,
or just as likely that tantalising shady patch,
with its dreamlike mystical allure so faraway,
this blue...

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May the first is traditionally the beginning of Spring
St Joseph is their patron saint this day to be 
the  only free day when no workers  joined
the throng of people shuffling looking already tired
to...

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On the side of the road to the Small Mission
Of Nuestra Senora del Los Milagros
A white rose stands under the shadow to peace all divisions
Protected by a majestic Eucalyptus with branches we cannot dose

Adeline was...

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                                  ...

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My Amber dear, awake to me. 
My madrigal has melody
in trills of the gold finch that you hear.
Awake to me, my Amber dear!

It’s dawn.  Arise, my angel sweet.
Put golden slippers on your feet.
We’ll follow...

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TO THE UNFAMILIAR BEAUTIFUL GIRLS-
(Israt Jahan & Jhing Atchi Madrigal)


wow so beautiful you are, the paragon of beauty
innocent the sight, the eyes, the nose, the lips, the chin…. 
why, why you are so beautiful to...

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Water drop
Anguish
Cries
Out

Did I need to taste your sorrow?

She drowned me
While screaming fixated curiosities
Why I would not return

Oblivious to the obvious

Dilapidated wonder-wall
dripping concrete uncertainty

The fusion of incomprehensible dependency
retarding mass exodus of heart

As she cries all over...

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It was in the rear room the rear room no smoke needed there                      ...

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in affective dissention
to prepare for their 
weaknesses and indecision
am I beyond mortal
my strengths separate
furniture in the rumor
allows those involve to sit
she recoils and strikes
and refuses to admit
understanding her words concerning
she in her vernacular tongue
speaks ill...

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Quaint town, orange sky and spitting roosters,
a trail of mosaic remembrances translates
into lavender hints of folks’ spiraled notes:
women balancing baskets of corn
strewn on the hips, a siege of  fluted weeds
meshing  with tropical winds...

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Thank You For Comimg

I like it under these shady walnut trees
It is a restful spot where Time can sit and pause
And maybe breathe a little too
The casket is a beauty; alabaster and golden cream

My friends...

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At The Pier

Contemplative bliss communes with the serene
into the spirit of the placid marine crystalized in my mind
as the sun’s reflection spreads glitter upon its open sea
Throngs milling to the melodious tunes of the guitar
strumming...

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Deep blood red orange cloud’s,
ethereal dream float,
Satin wind carrier of luscious mint,
green hymnody’s deft transport,
Spring hues random loitering,
between gray peeled branches,
Chirpy echo squeak,
 from red-wing blackbird,
A fragile wafer tin threshold,
Golden stream gurgle,
under marsh reeds, 
Evanescent...

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Oh Juliet!  A memory of a love long lost in vain…
thy bridal song, a dirge of darkened madrigal becomes.
Yet thought of you, for me, brings more to mind of hate than pain
and all because...

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High alpine meadows are dusted with wildflowers,
And the faraway horizon is outlined with craggy mountain peaks,
Half-asleep lights blink through the sun-painted mist,
The sunrays dip at varying angles and intensities,
creating mixed moods and mysteries ~
It feels...

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